


The Enchanted Ornament

by FleetSparrow



Series: Advent [5]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: Damian doesn't believe in Santa.  Dick decides to show him for real.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Series: Advent [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560067
Kudos: 27





	The Enchanted Ornament

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 of my Advent.
> 
> Prompt: The Christmas ornament is supposedly enchanted.

Dick had enlisted Damian in putting the ornaments on the tree. He was chatting away, telling Damian about each ornament they picked out when he pulled a small box out of the storage bin.

“This ornament is very special, Damian,” Dick said, opening the box. He pulled out a tiny ornament of Santa riding a reindeer. “We got this from Santa himself.”

Damian sighed. “Grayson, I’m ten. There’s no such thing as Santa.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Yes, there is, Damian.”

“Grayson. You don’t have to pretend to me.”

“Damian, I’m telling you there’s a Santa Claus because I’ve met him.”

Damian frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Bruce and I helped Santa save Christmas one year,” Dick said.

Damian stared at Dick skeptically. “Really?”

“Yes!” Dick looked back at the ornament in his hand. “It was back when I was Robin. Santa gave me this as a thank you. ‘Any time you want to come back,’ he said, ‘just make a wish on the ornament.’ I’ve just never wanted to go back alone.”

“You’re making that up,” Damian said.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Are you challenging me?”

“Grayson, there’s no such person as Santa Claus. And there’s no such thing as a magic ornament!”

Dick grabbed Damian’s and and clasped it over the ornament in his own. “Picture the happiest thing you can think of. And hold on.”

Dick closed his eyes and squeezed Damian’s hand. Damian reluctantly did the same. There was a strange rushing sensation of cold wind and then warmth surrounded him once again. He opened his eyes to see Dick smiling at him.

“We’re here,” Dick said.

Damian looked around. Dick was right. Instead of being in the main parlor of the manor, they were sitting on the floor of a cozy cottage.

“Grayson, where are we?” Damian asked.

Dick pulled him to his feet. “We’re at Santa’s.”

Dick gently removed Damian’s hand from his, pocketing the ornament to keep it safe. Damian stuck close to Dick as they walked through the halls of this strange place. It smelled like cinnamon and baking pastries.

“Robin!” a loud voice called out. Both of them turned.

A small man about Damian’s height came forward. He was very round, with a full white beard, and a huge smile on his face. Dick beamed back at him.

“Santa!”

Damian froze as the two of them hugged. This was both exactly how Santa should look and yet nothing like he felt Santa should look.

“I thought you would be taller,” Damian said, as Dick and Santa finally stopped hugging.

“Hohoho! My, no. How else could I fit down all those chimneys?” Santa laughed.

Damian looked like he was about to challenge this statement, but Dick intervened. “Do you want to see the workshop, Damian?”

Damian looked a little nervous. “I don’t know, Grayson.”

Dick took his hand. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

Santa led them to his workshop, where other elves his size were working on creating toys. Damian’s eyes went wide. “Grayson, how does this fit in with toys made by companies?”

Santa laughed. “Oh, we only make certain toys for children. The last toy when a parent has been searching for hours. The special toy that is given from a charity. I plant them all across the world for all good children.”

Damian looked skeptical. “Then what do you do on Christmas Eve?”

“I go around to each house and put a special toy under the tree. Just one, but it’s the special toy of the year.”

Damian pressed his lips together.

“He doesn’t know what to make of you,” Dick said, ruffling Damian’s hair. “He’s only recently learned about you.”

“Well, we can fix that.” Santa walked over to one of the worktables and picked up a wooden doll. “This is for you, Damian,” he said. “Treat her well, and she will tell you secrets.”

“I don’t need dolls,” Damian said, haughtily.

“This isn’t just any doll,” Santa said. “Look at her again.”

Damian shot Dick a look, but took the doll. When he looked back at it, he froze. “Mother?”

Santa smiled. “She will tell you how she’s doing. All you have to do is ask.”

Damian stared at his mother’s likeness. He had the sudden urge to throw her across the room and run, but he didn’t. He just held her close and nodded.

Dick put a hand on his shoulder. “Ready to go, Damian?”

He nodded.

Dick gave Santa another hug. “Thank you. And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dick,” Santa said. “And to you, too, Damian. Say hello to your father for me.”

Damian nodded numbly.

Dick led Damian back to the hallway they had come in and pressed the ornament into his hand. “Just think of home.”

Damian closed his eyes, one hand gripping Dick’s tightly, the other clutching the doll of his mother. Another rush of wind and they were back in Wayne Manor.

Dick took the ornament and hung it near the top of the tree.

“See, Damian? Santa does exist.”

Damian sat there looking at the doll. It was a perfect—too perfect—likeness of Talia.

“How is she?” he whispered.

“I’m well, my son,” the doll whispered back.

She didn’t say she missed him, but then, if it had, he would have known it wasn’t really his mother. Still, he clutched the doll to his chest and closed his eyes. Santa wouldn’t leave anything for him this year; he had already given it to him.


End file.
